This summer the Class of ’93 will celebrate their 20th high school reunion. To my surprise, this includes me.
Reasons to go:
- To see old friends: Believe it or not, I actually liked most of the people I went to high school with, and I would love to reconnect, if only for one night.
- Animal House was our how-to video of choice. Enough said.
- To see old adversaries: Admit it, everyone has someone from his or her past who the words “Suck it!” would be an appropriate greeting. Would I actually say those words? No. But my skin has held up beautifully over the last 20 years, and I think that would be revenge enough. (Here’s to hoping my adversaries have spent the last 20 years in a smoke-filled bar on the face of the sun!)
- To pretend, for one glorious night, that I haven’t aged one single bit. No, that wasn’t my hip creaking! I am still a spring chicken. And I definitely don’t have to ice my knees, ankles, and shoulders after every single tennis match I play. Spring chicken, I tell you, SPRING CHICKEN!
- To show that I am finally comfortable in my own skin. The shyness and bouts of low self-esteem felt in the locker-lined hallways of my past don’t still haunt me. I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and, … people like me (SNL). (So, maybe I still have the urge to chant this occasionally while rocking back and forth curled up in the fetal position in a corner. But I don’t. That would hurt my knees.)
- To show off my tall, fit, rugged husband. Seriously, he’s quite the arm candy. Re-read #3 if you can’t figure this one out.
- To have my ego stroked as I talk about my life, work, etc. Don’t judge me! You know you’re hoping for the same. And if you’re not, congratulations on being a much better person than me. You win a gold star.
Reasons to run in the opposite direction as if being chased by a lion:
- Any Animal House experiences these days require a minimum three-day recovery period.
- Along with 20 years of wisdom, I have also gained 20 years of weight. God gave me great skin that fends off the evil affects of time. He also gave me the metabolism of a turtle. (A quick prayer: Dear God, how about a quick exchange? I’ll gladly trade a few wrinkles for the size 6 body of my senior year. I could always buy face cream. There is no cream to remove my impressive hips. And while you’re at it, could you send the recipe for a hip and pooch disappearing cream to the good people at Johnson & Johnson? My hips require Divine Intervention. No lie.)
- All through high school, I dreamt of the day I would be free: out on my own, making my own rules, running my own life. The real world, as it turns out, is riddled with responsibilities. As of right now, I’m pretty sure attending my high school reunion would require my husband to basically go AWOL for the weekend. And I’m not going without my arm candy. Sometimes this whole being-a-responsible-member-of-society-thing really gets in the way.
This is the time to remember ’cause it will not last forever
These are the days to hold on to
‘Cause we won’t although we’ll want to
(A little shout out to my fellow Yellow Jackets Class of ’93. We slow danced to Billy Joel at prom. I know, in my heart of hearts, even with my aging knees and curvy hips, I’d like to dance with you all again. Feel free to gag at my sentimental side.)
So, what reasons do you have to attend your high school reunion? What will send you running in the opposite direction as if a lion is chasing you?